Quotes about criticise, page 3
Farewell to Bath
To all you ladies now at Bath,
And eke, ye beaux, to you,
With aching heart, and wat'ry eyes,
I bid my last adieu.
Farewell ye nymphs, who waters sip
Hot reeking from the pumps,
While music lends her friendly aid,
To cheer you from the dumps.
Farewell ye wits, who prating stand,
And criticise the fair;
Yourselves the joke of men of sense,
Who hate a coxcomb's air.
Farewell to Deard's, and all her toys,
Which glitter in her shop,
Deluding traps to girls and boys,
The warehouse of the fop.
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poem by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
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I Always Gave In
Why do family attack and criticise?
Why the anger, attitude and the need to fight?
We need to be here for each other
Not constantly ducking for cover
Family needs to love, support and affectionately be tight.
It should be discussion not argument no matter who is wrong or right Neither visits nor calls unless to be used or abused
Now I stand my ground for surrender I refuse
Family can be insensitive and cause so much pain
I can’t believe after all these years here it goes again
The hurt can be so immense just so one can feel they are right
My broken heart and flowing tears afford me no comfort through the night
Family can hurt you the worst when they stab you in the heart
When all you want is love, recognition, acceptance, not broken and ripped apart So here is the message, no more, no more and take it to be true
If you can't give love and compasion then that's it I'm through.
poem by Jamie McDonald
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Fashions are a passing phase for friend Jon London
I read your words with greatest care
and try to see your point of view
Although sometimes I must declare
I find it difficult to do.
I hesitate to criticise.
Aware the fault may lie with me.
Nor dare I offer you advice.
You might resent it bitterly.
The messages you try to send
to me lack simple clarity
I cannot see what you intend.
It makes no sense at all to me.
Your random thoughts lack coherence
They’re neither poetry nor prose.
An unintended consequence
of fashions changing I suppose.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Not Easy To Overcome
There are huge potentials of the markets waiting for you over there,
So why can't you take advantage of it to express yourself?
For there are no finger prints in this world which are the same,
But the masters are not easy to overcome.
Show up to the course and be very objective and realistic to your muse,
And bring out a constructive commitment towards your goals!
For writing is like a skill which has an artistic roll to play always,
But the masters are not easy to overcome.
Aim at the potential markets around you and try to get there!
For i will meet you when you get there;
But breaking through these markets will let you feel heaven right here on earth!
All the same, the masters are not easy to overcome.
These huge potentials of these markets are what you need,
But criticise me if i am wrong;
For the true potentials of your talents are what makes up the markets,
And you need a break through to satisfy your muse with your mind!
But the masters are not easy to overcome.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Opening Ode
Delivered at an Odd-Fellows' Concert.
Some have formed strange conceptions about the mysteries of our order.
They believe that enshrouded 'mong the deep and mysterious
surroundings of our dark recesses and caves we have chained
'Gorgans and Hydras, and Chimeras dire,' and that in our mazes
and labyrinths,
A horrid goat we have to ride,
With long horns and shaggy hide,
And that the beast we have to stride well
Without saddle or a bridle.
Friends, with pleasure we do meet you,
And with hearty welcome greet you ;
With many we have met before,
So pleasantly in days of yore.
But some new faces we do find,
And hope they'll criticise us kind ;
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poem by James McIntyre
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Dedicatory Poem For "Underwoods"
TO her, for I must still regard her
As feminine in her degree,
Who has been my unkind bombarder
Year after year, in grief and glee,
Year after year, with oaken tree;
And yet betweenwhiles my laudator
In terms astonishing to me -
To the Right Reverend The Spectator
I here, a humble dedicator,
Bring the last apples from my tree.
In tones of love, in tones of warning,
She hailed me through my brief career;
And kiss and buffet, night and morning,
Told me my grandmamma was near;
Whether she praised me high and clear
Through her unrivalled circulation,
Or, sanctimonious insincere,
She damned me with a misquotation -
A chequered but a sweet relation,
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poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Have You A Friend?
Have you a friend you truly love?
And does this friend love you?
For in this world of push and shove
We need someone that’s true
Have you a friend who’d understand?
The foolish things you‘ve done
Who’s always there to lend a hand
Until your battle’s won
A friend who values what you do
Listens to what you say
Who’ll help in life your goals pursue
Who’s with you all the way
Have you a friend who loves to give?
Who loves to love and care
Who lives the way you ought to live
And how you ought to share
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poem by Michael P. Johnson
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The Wicket Cricket Critic
If the cricket critics' nagging
Merits stern official gagging
Which I doubt
How would critical ascetics,
With their prosy homiletics,
Shut it out?
And the question then arises:
If more cricketing surprises,
Such as bodyline, begin to threaten cricket,
And another stunt, when sprung,
Call for clicking of the tongue,
Should a cricket critic critically click it?
When the barrackers grow lyric
In a manner most satiric
And profane,
How, one ventures still to wonder,
May the clamor be kept under?
How restrain?
For one barbaric larrik-
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The ABC
'Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!"
Said A to B, "I don't like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!"
"I disagree," said D to B,
"I've never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O."
C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I'm made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape."
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poem by Spike Milligan
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Spider-Man
While most folks sleep when night draws near
And dream their gentle dreams,
For Spider-Man the choice is clear
Despite the mad extremes!
While justice isn't always sweet,
Nor swift to ease the pain...
For Spider-Man no easy street,
Yet no good to complain!
Folks criticise the things he does -
He works outside the law...
Yet he persists despite the fuss
To overcome each flaw!
He perseveres and truly tries -
He soldiers on each time...
A warrior who spins and flies
And strives against each crime!
With super strength and spider-sense
He clings to any wall...
He fights his foes to save his friends
With courage to stand tall!
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poem by Denis Martindale
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